Escape
by Lasaraleen
Summary: Rhett Butler always needed escape; he never knew it came with a price. "What if" during the miscarriage. Tear jerker, please be warned.


I DON'T OWN GWTW.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Rhett Butler was notorious for escaping. He escaped everything—the war, fights, you name it. And his most recent deed was escaping from his wife, Scarlett O'Hara-Hamilton-Kennedy-Butler. Only this time, he brought their daughter, Eugenie Victoria, better known as Bonnie, with him.

He needed escape; he searched for solace. After all, everyone knew the state of their affairs. Despite all that, he remained in love with his sly green-eyed wife. However, the final blow came when she was caught in the arms of Ashley Wilkes, the man she loved more than anyone in the world.

Now Rhett was by no means the naïve, innocent husband. He knew of their mutual love long before he had married her. But, like a fool, he had thought he could make her love him. That was all he wanted anyway; for her to love him as he loved her.

After that incident, he knew how she felt. Humiliated. Scared. But nevertheless, he had forced her to go to the proceding party. Alone. With no one by her side. That, for him, was some sort of revenge. He wanted her to feel the pain she had caused him.

And that night, she was sad, tired, and traumatized. But he, drunk as he was, mocked this. What did he do? Oh, what any caring husband would do-he raped her.

It was morning when the first waves of guilt washed over him. He had then escaped, as he was known to do, to-who would have guessed? Belle Watling's Saloon. He was known to frequent the area, and so no one paid mind.

He stayed there, holed up in a little second floor cell of her establishment. He was trying to drink away his guilt, but it came back, more than it was previously. He decided to stay there until Scarlett's Irish temper cooled.

Finally, after three days, he went back to the architectural horror he called home, only to find that she was even more incensed at him than before. Badly wounded, he took his daughter and guess what-escaped. The hurt in her face made up for the time he spent in grief.

He and his Bonnie went everywhere.. London, Paris, Charleston.. but Bonnie was not an adequate balm to his predicament. She looked too much like her mother, and it was obvious she missed her. Truth be told, he missed her too. He remembered all the times he and Scarlett were happy together, and the mere sight of emeralds or chocolate brought back swift, vibrant memories.

Finally, they had decided to go back to Atlanta, but he was still not ready to face her. They had gone on behalf of Bonnie's wishes. But, not about to be tangled in her web again, he booked another train ride to Charleston right after he dropped Bonnie off with her mother

They were home, and Bonnie ran up eagerly to greet her mother, running as fast as her short stubby legs could carry her. From the corner of his eye he saw her greet Bonnie eagerly.

When he finally turned to face her, he noticed she seemed..different. She wwas more beautiful than could be imagined. But, she was also rather pale. Not wanting to get caught in her web again, he decided to play the part of a polite stranger. He put on his usual impassive mask and went up the stairs.

"You are looking pale, Mrs. Butler. Is there a rouge shortage?" he asked simply. He had not said a word about missing her, and he did it on purpose.

"Can this wanes mean you've been missing me?" he continued mockingly.

"If I'm pale it's your fault and it's not because I've missed you, you conceited thing, It's because.."

There was unmistakable venom as she answered and even he, who knew her so well, was taken aback. But he could never have prepared himself for the next line.

"It's because I'm going to have a baby!" she spat out.

At that moment he felt like the happiest man on Earth. To hell with getting caught again, he was staying, and he would make her love him. He moved as though to put a hand on her arm but she twisted away, and before the hate in her eyes, all resolve was gone. He could never make her love him.

"Indeed," he said cooly, "and who's the happy father? Ashley?"

She clutched the newel post until her knuckles turned white, Boy, the ears of that carved lion ought to hurt.

"Damn you!" she began, her voice shaking with sick rage, "You-you know it's yours. And I don't want it anymore than you do. No-no woman would want the child of a cad like you. I wish-Oh God I wish it was anybody's baby but yours!"

That insult hit its mark. Immediately the rage she felt passed on to him. So this was how she would be. Well, two could play at a game.

"Cheer up. Maybe you'll have a miscarriage."

She lunged for him, swift as a cat, but he used his arm to block her off. She was standing on the edge of the newly waxed top step, and as she threw all her weight onto one side and collided with his arm, she lost her balance.

Her terrified high pitched screams were blood-chilling. Rhett was frozen in one spot, unable to comprehend what he had done. But worse was to come.

A little over halfway down the stairs, the screams of terror, shock, and pain died away into a deafening silence, and she tumbled down those last few steps as soundlessly as a rag doll. For Rhett, the silence was worse than her screams.

Finally, she landed in a heap of fabric and blood at the bottom of the stairs. By this time, Rhett had regained control of himself and raced down the stairs. She was lying in a pool of blood.

Rhett had never thought it was possible to lose that much blood. He had gone to war before. He had fought. He had killed. And yet he had never seen so much blood come out of one body. The ghastly dark red liquid was all over. It poured from numerous areas at her arms. It came out of her mouth and from her hairline. There was blood all over her skirts. The stain of blood spread in the carpet rapidly as if by magic.

He gently picked her up from the puddle of blood. She was so light in his arms. Immediately he sensed something was wrong. There was no rise or fall of her chest; he felt no pulse. And when he stood up shakily with her in his arms, one limp arm dropped.

The fingers of the hand were curled.

Reviews are much appreciated. First GWTW fanfic, please be kind! Oh and tell me if I should continue.

Btw, how do you edit a published story?


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